


Pumpkin Month

by Raven_Knight



Series: The Lucius Malfoy Series [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A whole lot of silliness, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Humor, Narcissa's bad cooking, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-15 01:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Knight/pseuds/Raven_Knight
Summary: An uneventful October afternoon proves enlightening for Lucius Malfoy as he discusses his latest appointment with Draco.





	Pumpkin Month

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This piece, archived at Archive of Our Own (Ao3), is purely a non-commercial work of fiction from which I am not profiting in any way. This work may not be reproduced, archived, or redistributed by any means and/or in any format without prior written permission from me. Permission may be obtained by contacting me at r4v3n.kn1ght@gmail.com. 
> 
> This is one of the silliest things I've written in a while, but after writing some serious stuff, I felt it was time to relax with some humor and riddikulus-ness. Enjoy! ~ RK

**Pumpkin Month**  
**By **  
**Raven Knight**

With a snap of the Daily Prophet, Lucius Malfoy commanded his only son, Draco, out of his afternoon nap and into full consciousness. “How have I not noticed that it’s been officially Pumpkin Month for two weeks already?”

“Wha’, Father?” Draco slurred as his brain struggled to wake up and form words.

Lucius checked to make sure his son wasn’t drunk. “Pumpkin Month, Draco. It’s Pumpkin Month.” He turned back to the paper, perusing the headlines. “Not the best month of the year for Death Eaters and our Lord, but otherwise it’s a nice time of year, don’t you agree?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, Father.” Why did his father sound off, like he had something in his mouth that he was speaking around? Did he even want to know the answer to that? Probably not. “I want something to munch, Father,” he blearily announced.

“That’s the thing about these new whitestrips, Draco,” Lucius said, his tone casual and friendly in a way that made Draco do a double take at him. “You stick them right onto your teeth, and you can’t eat or drink while they’re clinging there like leeches! Does wonders for curbing hunger and escaping your dear mother’s dreadful cooking.” From the floor next to Lucius’s chair, Death, the family dog, whimpered. 

“I…didn’t know you needed to make your teeth whiter, Father.”

Lucius lowered the paper enough to look at him. “Apparently all my tea and brandy drinking has caused something called staining.” He raised the paper again. “And these new magical whitestrips will take care of that in just two weeks, twice a day.”

Draco tilted his head, running the math. “That seems like a long time for a spell to work.”

“Yes, well, beauty like this takes effort, Draco.”

Draco had nothing to say to that. He did admit, though, that he wished he could get out of eating his mother’s cooking with such a long-lasting excuse. “Must be nice not to be tempted by Mother’s cooking.”

Lucius didn’t answer right away. “Draco, between you and me, I am _never_ tempted by your mother’s…Can we actually call it cooking?” His voice turned a bit more chipper and excited as he changed topic. “This is a clever little spell, you know. Do you know where I got them?” Draco shook his head even though Lucius couldn’t see him with the Daily Prophet held up between them. “From a family of dentists that Severus recommended to me. I never would have thought! Severus said he couldn’t do anything for my teeth staining situation and so he sent me there. Nice people, Draco.” He flipped a page. “I do admit, they seem a touch behind with their devices, but as long as these things get the job done, and it is cheap to handle—” He peered over the Prophet at Draco. “You do know we have to save every knut we can so we can secretly order out for at least dinner and pretend to eat your mother’s attempts in the kitchen—I don’t mind at all!” He ducked behind the paper again.

Draco thought the semi-lecture was over and went to leave when his father started to talk again. “I can’t seem to remember their names, though. Hmm.” Draco sat back down. “Come to think of it, they did say that you might know their rather intelligent daughter at Hogwarts. Do you? Top mark student, they claimed. I told them, ‘I’m sure she’s intelligent, but my Draco is the Wizarding World’s genius when it comes to charms and hexes.’ They seemed to get a little quiet after that. I don’t know why.”

Draco froze, slowly puzzling through the clues his father’s rant gave him. He swallowed his nausea to ask what needed to be asked. “Surely you don’t mean…Granger?”

Lucius had kept talking like he didn’t hear him. “But then they told me that their little brainiac is also very good in charms and spells and that there hasn’t been a single one she couldn’t do. I thought you might be study partners. Are you, Draco?” Then, his son’s question hit his brain and he flung the Daily Prophet to the side of his chair. It fluttered to Death, who barely acknowledged it while Lucius verbally exploded. “What!? Did you say Granger!? That Gryffindor tart! Are you telling me, Draco, that I went to a Muggle Dentist!?”

Draco nodded. “From what I overheard Saint Potter mumbling during my eavesdropping, Granger’s parents are dentists. It would explain why things are antiquated in their office.”

Lucius stared at Draco, openmouthed, the whitestrips foaming around his teeth, giving him a particularly rabid appearance. “I’m……I’m ashamed of myself, Draco.” He gathered his wits and jabbed a finger at him. “Not a single _word_ to Our Lord about this! Do you understand, Draco!?”

Draco gulped. “Y-yes, Father.”

“I would be _dead_ before I could say ‘Hello, Dobby!’ for going to Muggle dentists!”

While his father shook in terror of his own impending doom if his misstep was discovered, Draco pondered a disturbing thought aloud. “I wonder why Professor Snape recommended you go to them in the first place, Father.”

Lucius’s attention snapped to Draco. “Consorting with Muggles and Mudbloods, is he?” He raised his cane, in which he concealed his wand, and waved it menacingly. “Well! Someone will just have to stomp it out of him, won’t they?”

Draco shrank into the cushions, having no ambition to have anything stomped out of him just for being a convenient target. “Yes?”

Sanity returned to Lucius. He lowered his cane with a calculating gleam in his cunning eyes. “But not just yet. Let Severus thin he outwitted me. Let him bask in his glory at getting one over a Malfoy.” A touch of madness sparked in his eyes again. “And then, when he least expects it!” He slammed the cane on the floor, startling Draco and Death alike. “I just may have to look up a nasty cavity spell and hit him with it! Then he’ll know what pain truly is! And then,” Lucius barely managed to say through his scheming laughter. “He’ll be the one that must go to the Danger Granger Dentists and suffer through some horrific, primitive Muggle surgery!”

As much as Draco wanted to, he didn’t dare mention to his father that he was literally foaming at the mouth. He still hadn’t removed Granger’s whitestrip devices. He doubted that his father knew just how insane and dangerous he looked like that.

Just as he decided to make his escape, Narcissa entered the room again, carrying two bowls of what was probably supposed to be soup but looked like a potions accident. She caught Lucius’s attention and he looked at the bowls and tried to hide his dismay at the sight of another cooking attempt. “What on all the Wizarding World is that, my dear?”

Narcissa smiled and held out the clumpy not-soup towards her husband. “Dinner. It’s a vegetable soup.”

Lucius couldn’t see a single vegetable in the bowl…or at least one he could recognize. He grimaced behind his hand. “Looks _divine_, darling.” With her waiting for him to taste it, he had no choice but to pick up the spoon and scoop up the congealed sludge. It took more courage for him to put that spoon in his mouth than it did for him to have Lord Voldemort in his face yelling at him without wetting himself. He forced it down his throat. “Better than the last stew, dear.”

Narcissa mumbled a weak, “thank you,” through overjoyed tears and then fled back into the kitchen.

Lucius and Draco exchanged horrified glances with each other. They stared at their inedible so-called-soup and wondered how they could get away with not eating it. Lucius looked Death in the face. “Would you like to do your part in this family burden?” Death growled at the offered bowl, going so far as to bare his teeth.

Lucius returned the hostility with a tight smile. “Fine! We’ll see if I let Draco buy you anymore of those kneazle treats you like so much even though you’re not supposed to have them at all!”

Death whimpered and looked at the sludge in the bowl. The desire to continue receiving delicious treats won out. Death crawled closer, sniffed the stuff in the bowl, sneezed, whined again, and ultimately started to eat some of the questionable soup. Lucius pet Death’s head. “Good boy, Death.” He stared into the fire as Death slurped down Narcissa’s concoction and only looked back to the bowl when Death whined pathetically. The bowl was almost three quarters empty. “That’s good enough, Death.” Death flopped his head onto the rug next to the bowl. Eating potentially poisonous food left one in a state of intestinal limbo and Death had no intention of risking a vomit incident in the near future.

“Well!” Lucius exclaimed. “Since Severus had me visit Muggle Dentists, I think my time with these are done!” He tore the whitestrips from his teeth and flung them into the fire. “They did have a disgusting flavor to them and a consistency of sand paste!” He watched them melt with a pleased smile. “You know, Draco,” he said, eyes fixed on the spot where the whitestrips melted away. “I’m looking forward to repaying Severus’s kindness. What do you think would work best? Poisoning his tea? Use a spell to give him excessive amounts of cavities and force _him _to go to a Muggle Dentist and see how he likes it? Break his potion-making fingers? Blind him? Temporarily, of course. Something must be done, don’t you think, Draco?”

Draco didn’t answer. “Draco?” Lucius turned. Draco wasn’t there. He looked around the room. “Draco?” His son was nowhere to be found.

What Lucius didn’t know was that, at that very moment, Draco was upstairs writing a letter to warn his favorite professor not to trust anything his father gave him because he was out for vengeance for the Muggle Dentist recommendation. Before he sealed it, he did add that it was amusing to see his father foaming at the mouth with the teeth whiteners and that it was a shame Professor Snape couldn’t see it in person.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment or hit the kudos button if you're shy. Thanks! ~ RK


End file.
